


Creare Aeternum

by Tshilaba



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8135660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tshilaba/pseuds/Tshilaba
Summary: The smallest of acts, the meetings of least chance. All play a part in creating eternity.





	1. Chapter 1

She sighed and leaned back against the wall, finding a somewhat secluded area in the northwest. “I missed a blood moon for this,” she muttered. “I could kill Henry....” She cast an irritated glance across the gyrating crowd before her eyes settled on the bright cyan colored hair of a girl about her age, with goggles with bright orange lenses pushed back into her hair, midway between her bangs and pigtails, wearing an outfit that almost made her think she'd fallen out of a Rainbow Brite cartoon. It suited her in an odd way though...

A few moments later, the same girl collapsed against the wall next to her, breathing erratic like she'd run a mile in just under a minute. “Hey,” she said. “You takin' a break too?”

“You...could say that...”

The girl nodded. “My name's Robin, by the way.”

“Tharja,” she replied. Something about the woman was enthralling, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Robin glanced out across the crowd. “Well, I'm gonna go back to dancing. Wanna come with me?”

I could totally be using this blood moon... “Yeah, sure.” She followed her back into the crowd, slipping through as the lights flashed over them, reflecting off of Robin's goggles briefly before she grinned at her. Why were so many people nowadays so...social? _I'll kick his ass for insisting I come tonight..._ She watched as Robin's pig tails bounced nearly in time with the beat, nearly losing herself between that and the pounding music, their bodies quickly falling into synchronization with each other. Unbidden, the lyrics to Labyrinth's “Magic Dance” came to her. “You remind of the babe. The babe with the power...”

“Your mother is a fraggin' aardvark!”

“Excuse me?” Tharja said angrily. “What did you—ohhh.”

Robin grinned. “Is that your way of saying you're...” she spun around once, “interested?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

The girl giggled, her grin becoming wider before she slipped into the crowd again, her bouncing pig tails barely showing Tharja where she'd gone.

Tharja followed almost instantly.

* * *

She found Robin perched on a low rise wall a few feet from the dance room. The light was dimmer, but somehow the woman's beauty hadn't diminished in the least. Sitting down next to her, she said “So what brought you here?”

“Had nothing better to do tonight,” Robin admitted, shrugging. “Everyone else was busy and I've been pretty damn bored myself. You?”

“Henry insisted I come because I needed to be “social”. Whatever the hell that means...”

Robin chuckled quietly before she held out a pack of cigarettes to her. “Wanna smoke?” she offered. “I doubt you have much space in that outfit. 'Less you stick stuff in your bra, that is.”

“What? And having it jabbing into me the whole night? No fucking thank you,” she said. “But yeah, sure, I'll take one.” She let Robin light it for her before taking a drag as Robin lit her own and put the pack away. “I wouldn't have pegged you as a smoker though.”

Robin shrugged, brushing one of her pig tails over her shoulder. “Most of my friends would never believe I come here on my nights off either,” she said quietly.

Sensing the tension, Tharja decided to change the subject. “Why do you like coming here?”

“It's nice to let go for a few hours,” she said, staring past the opposite wall where it dropped off into who knew where. “I'm exhausted by the time I get home, but at least I can sleep then.”

“Sounds pretty stressful. Why would you tire yourself out?”

“Probably the same reason you come even though you're not the type to want to be this close to people for so long.”

Well, she couldn't deny that. She crossed her legs, continuing her cigarette as Robin fell into silence next to her. After a few minutes, Robin stubbed her cigarette out against the wall before getting up. “Well, I should get back in there I guess,” she said. “Maybe we'll meet up again later?” She gave a small wave before bounding off.

Tharja doubted she would, but more than a small part of her wanted to.

* * *

She straightened a few books on her shelf.

The woman hadn't come back after their smoke, but it wasn't as if Tharja expected her to. She was long since used to anything she ever showed an interest in being snatched away from her.

The door clicked shut behind her, but she didn't turn around. “What do you want, Henry?”

“We're having another rave. You should be there,” he said, lounging back onto her couch.

“Not interested,” she said, moving to her desk to straighten the stacks of papers she'd been organizing before.

“A raven told me your little prize will be there.”

She stiffened slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. Like you didn't make it obvious when you went outside with her?”

“I got a smoke. What? Is it a crime to smoke a cigarette now?”

“No, of course not. But you know the rules,” he said. He crossed the room and picked up one of the books off the shelf, flicking through the pages. “I would hope you wouldn't be breaking them.”

She snorted. “The raven is more likely to break the rules than I am, and you know that.” She took the book from his hands and put it back on the shelf. “Now, did you actually have a reason for pestering me?”

“Other than the rave?”

She sighed. “When?”

“All Saints' Day,” he replied simply. “I know you and your grandmother usually have things to do on All Hallows Eve, so Aversa and I figured it would be best to have it the day after.”

“And of course you just arrange this all on your own.”

“Of course.”

“Ugh, fine. Fine!” she said. “Shoo. I have to go shopping.”

“You don't want my help?”

“No, I do not. You know I don't ever.”

“Right, right.” He gave her a grin before leaving.

She rolled her eyes. She would never be able to get rid of him.

* * *

She sat next to the sound system as she watched Henry fiddle with the cords. “What did you fuck up this time?”

“Nothing. The thing just doesn't want to work.”

“Umm... Maybe I can help?”

They looked up to see bright cyan hair with orange goggles resting in front of the rainbow tied pig tails. She pushed her bangs out of her eyes and grinned sheepishly. “I'm kinda good with tech stuff.”

“Henry's fucking hopeless.”

“Tharja!”

“Well it's true.”

“Oh, like you could do any better.”

“I could.”

“And yet you're sitting on your ass bitching about my supposed inability.”

“Yep.”

Robin chuckled quietly before Henry stepped aside so she could get to the wiring, walking off a few moments later as he mumbled something about “setting up the rest”. She fiddled with a few things before she said “So I take it he's your boy toy?” without looking up from the cords.

“Ugh, gag me with a spoon,” Tharja muttered. “No, I would never do that.”

“Oh. Brother then?”

“No, he's not. I'm just not into guys.”

“Oh, I see...” She went silent for a few minutes before the speakers finally hummed into life. “There you go.” She patted the top of the speaker she was standing closest to. “Easy fix, really. For me at least.”

“A techie, huh? That's useful. Henry can't tell these cords from his own dick sometimes.”

Robin chuckled. “You sure seem pretty close to him.”

“Tharja is just abusive by nature,” Henry said, walking back up. “But thanks for that.” He tossed her a small packet which she fumbled briefly before finally catching. “Consider that payment for your help. The rest of them will be here in a few minutes.” He disappeared again into one of the side rooms.

Robin leaned back against the stage, fiddling with the packet. “Is this drugs?”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Tharja said. “You didn't expect that?”

“Not really, no. Usually you have to jump through a ton of hoops to even get your hands on it...”

“Henry's too generous for his own damn good.”

“Huh...” She continued inspecting it, her bangs falling into her eyes as she bent over it.

“I'd advise you to take it before you leave, or get rid of it. There's no telling when a cop will find you,” Tharja warned. Robin shoved it in her hands. “Wha...”

“You take it. I'd forget about it, and I'm around a kid sometimes. It's just not good. She's found my cigarettes before and my dad nearly killed me.”

“Kid sister?” She stuck the packet into her pocket. She'd pass it off to someone later that night, not being in the mood for it herself.

“You could say that,” Robin replied, adjusting the ties in her hair. “Sorry. I appreciate the thought, but I don't need to be paid for helping out.”

“I understand.” Tharja leaned back onto her palms and looked down at the woman. “So what brought you here this time? Our first meeting may have been chance, but this is starting to seem intentional.”

Robin's cheeks turned red and she ducked her head, causing her bangs to fall into her eyes. “You noticed that...”

“Of course.”

“Well...I didn't get to talk to you again that night...And Aversa said you'd be at this one...”

“Wait, you know Aversa?”

“Er, yeah. She's kinda like my step sister, or that's what my parents always told me growing up.”

Tharja frowned slightly but shrugged it off.

“Maybe we could...I dunno. Maybe we could swap digits and hang out on our own terms?” Robin suggested.

“Heh. Sure. You got a pen?”

“Mm, yeah, gimme a sec.” She dug in the pockets of her vest for a few minutes before pulling out a bright blue ink pen. “Arm?” Tharja held it out to her and she pushed the sleeve up a little ways before scrawling a number and address onto the skin before handing the pen to Tharja so she could do the same. “So why do you come here?”

“Because if I didn't, Henry would bug the hell outta me.”

Robin giggled quietly as she put her pen away. “You guys sure hang around each other a lot for hating each other so much.”

“Oh stuff it,” Tharja grumbled, pushing herself off the stage. “Come on, you don't wanna be close to these bastards when they start up.”

* * *

She'd written the number and address down as soon as she got home, but left it on her desk. She showered and went to bed that night, and carried out the next morning as she always did. But somehow, around midday, her eyes drifted back to the address book laying on her desk. You've got strong magic, Little Mouse, but you'll be truly powerful when you find your other half. Her grandmother's words echoed in her head, unbidden. She'd never really believed in all that stuff about soul mates and destiny. But something about Robin was pulling her harder than anything had before. She sighed.

It looked like it was time to visit Grandmama again.

* * *

“Ah, Little Mouse, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“I've...met someone,” Tharja began, as her grandmother ushered her into the sitting room before bringing the tea in. She always had tea ready.

“Oh?”

“Yeah... Her name's Robin.”

“Ah, so you have a little friend now? Is she like us?”

“I don't know if she practices the craft or not,” she answered as she took the cup from her. “We haven't really talked much. But...something about her...”

“Ah, I see...” The old woman nodded solemnly. “She'll make a good friend for you.”

“Grandmama, I...” She stared into her tea. “I don't want to just make friends.”

“Ah, I see. My Little Mouse has fallen in love, has she?”

Tharja nodded, ducking her head as her cheeks heated up.

“Now, darling, you know I've always supported you no matter what.”

“I know, I just...” She sighed.

“Just remember what I told you, Little Mouse.”

She nodded, staring into her tea.

“How about I make some dinner for us?”

“I'd like that, Grandmama. Thank you.”

* * *

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before going back to the apple she was coring. She hadn't really had the time to call Robin as the few times she had she'd only gotten the answering machine. She despised those things, but then that was just her preference. She could understand their use...for people who were gone nearly all day long. She knew not everyone had easy lives that allowed them to have as much free time as she did. But to each their own.

She stiffened slightly, moments before Robin peeked into the kitchen. “Did...I interrupt something?” she asked.

“Not...exactly,” Tharja answered. She shrugged. “I'm just baking.”

Robin blew a strand of light blonde hair out of her eyes, the cyan dye having long since washed out of her hair since the last rave. Tharja couldn't help but like that color just as much as Robin's natural one. “Whatcha baking?” she asked, moving over to the counter. “I didn't know you ate baked apples.”

“I don't, usually,” Tharja said. “I'm baking them to make lamb's wool for Yule.” When Robin's blue eyes looked at her in confusion, she said “It's one of the eight holidays of the pagan year. It comes after Samhain--”

“That's what others call Halloween, right?”

“That, or All Hallows Eve. But yeah. It's sort of like a second harvest.”

“So, why are you baking the apples?”

“It's an offering to the gods. It's not a mandatory thing, but it's something I've always liked to do. It was something Grandmama taught me, to always give thanks to the gods.”

“You really love her,” Robin said gently. “She hasn't...”

“Oh, no. She's still alive. I've just always been close to her. You see, she raised me since I was about eight years old.”

“Oh...I”m sorry.”

“It's okay. My father contracted an illness in his line of work. It passed to Mother as well, and the doctors couldn't seem to find a cure. I don't know how it never affected me.”

“Tharja, I...”

The knife slipped and cut into to her thumb. “Ow! Fuck!” she swore, dropping the apple and knife into the sink as she stuck her thumb into her mouth, sucking it gently.

“Oh god, I'm sorry!” Robin cried.

She shook her head, looking at her thumb. “It's not that bad. Give me a moment, I'll be right back.” Robin nodded as she made her way to the bathroom, bandaging her thumb and coming back to the kitchen. “See? Told you,” she said, wiggling her fingers and thumb to prove they were all right. “Sometimes you get hurt cooking. It happens.”

“I don't cook much,” the blonde mumbled. “I tend to burn things. Or...somehow make it inedible.”

Tharja smiled softly. “Here,” she said, passing an apple to her. “Help me with these apples. There are knives in the drawer there by you. Just try not to cut yourself. Blood magic is potent, but I'd prefer not to make the gods think I'm trying to bind them to my will.”

“Okay...” Robin proved to be quite talented in coring apples with the knife, and she listened intently when Tharja gave her measurements for the rest of the drink, before finally the apples were ready to put into the oven.

Tharja closed the oven door and set her timer when an idea occurred to her. “Robin, would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Er...”

“I don't mind. I'd actually like to spend some time with you. But your work keeps you so busy...”

“Yeah, I know. Sure, I guess I can stay for dinner.”

Tharja nodded. “If I give you some cash, would you be willing to go shopping and we cook together?”

“Sure, I suppose,” Robin said, shrugging. “But what were you going to do if I wasn't here?”

“I would have just waited until the lamb's wool was ready to set on the altar, really.” She walked to her room, knowing Robin had followed her, before opening her purse sitting on her dresser and pulling two twenties out and handed them to her, along with a shopping list. “Oh, you can pick up a bottle of wine, too, I don't mind.”

“Um, what brand do you want?” the blonde said as she folded the bills and stuck them into the pocket of her vest.

“Whatever you like,” she said, waving her hand. “I'm not picky. Get something you like.”

“You put a lot of faith in forty damn dollars.”

“There's some reasonable things out there, when you know what to look for.”

Robin laughed. “You're lucky I'm a goddess at bargain hunting. All right. I'll be back in about half an hour, I guess. See ya.”

Tharja waved as the girl left the room before glancing back at the timer. Did she say that solely because of how long the timer was set for? Or did she truly believe it would take half an hour to get a couple vegetables and a bottle of wine? She shook her head. What a weird young woman...

* * *

Robin sighed softly to herself as she made her way down the steps to the sidewalk outside of Tharja's house. She kicked a rock, skipping it across a few sidewalk stones, before shoving her hands in her pockets. Shopping around Christmas was one of the most annoying things in the world. Even as a child, she'd been annoyed by the crowds, and it wasn't helped much by her father's seeming hatred of the season. Restaurants were booked, stores were packed with last minute shoppers. She'd come to hate it even more the older she got. If Christmas was supposed to be a family season, fate sure as hell lost that memo when her life was picked. She ran her hand through her bangs and turned the corner.

 _Why the hell am I doing this?_ she thought tiredly. _I barely know this woman and I'm going shopping for her. I mean fuck, why am I even so interested her in the first damn place?_ She walked into the store, pulling the list out of her pocket and glancing over it before grabbing a shopping basket and making her way down the aisles. She had reached out to pick up a reasonable looking red bell pepper when it dawned on her how her mysterious attraction to the young woman sounded very like the vampire stories she'd read when she was younger. “It can't be,” she muttered, shaking her head. She turned the vegetable over in her hands. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than most of the Christmas season merchandise. She put in the basket and moved on.

It was better to not worry about it. Tharja was a nice woman. It was comfortable to be around her. It would be nice to expand her circle of friends. Besides, she was prone to making mountains out of molehills, as Gregor always pointed out. It was time she loosened up.

She grabbed a bottle of Riesling before walking to the checkout, paying for the ingredients and showing the cashier her driver's license, before gathering her bags and leaving the store, making her way back to the house.

* * *

“Baaaaaack~” Robin sang as she nudged the door shut behind her with her foot.

Tharja set the baking pan on the stovetop before taking off the oven mitts. “Set the bags on the counter, please. I'll get to it in a moment when I'm done with this lamb's wool.”

“Mkay.” The blonde set the bags down when she noticed the cores sitting next to the sink. “You're not gonna throw this away?”

“Eh?” The raven turned to look at her. “What? No. That's the other part of the offering.”

“Seeds?”

Tharja sighed, a very patient, nearly long-suffering, sigh Robin noticed. “What part grows new plants?”

“The seeds.”

“Right,” she said, nodding.”Yule is the time when the God is reborn.”

“So...” Robin frowned slightly as she seemed to be thinking for a moment. “The lamb's wool is the drink, and the seeds the food? Kinda like the tradition of kids leaving milk and cookies for Santa Claus?”

“You could say that, yes. Normally I do more, but Henry decided to occupy me until I didn't have enough time to plan a food offering to accompany the drink.”

Robin nodded. “I think... I think they'll understand. It's the thought and intent that counts, not the offering itself, right?”

She picks up quickly. “Usually, yes.” She turned back to the apples and spooned the flesh into the bowl she'd pulled from the cabinet a few minutes before Robin had come back, mashing it into a puree. She poured it into the cider she had heated. “Hand me that goblet, please,” she said, pointing towards her left, where the clean goblet sat nearby the dishdrainer. When Robin had handed it to her, she poured the drink into it, stopping just an inch from the rim. She set the pot down and picked up the goblet carefully, walking towards the room she'd set up the altar in, just a few doors down from the library. She heard Robin follow her, but the footsteps stopped at the doorway as she set the goblet down on the altar cloth. She turned around and looked at the blonde. “What's wrong?”

Robin seemed startled at the question, quickly casting her eyes down to her feet, fidgeting slightly. “Well, I...they're not my...I mean...I didn't think...”

Tharja crossed the room, laying a hand to the blonde's cheek and pushing her face up gently. “I don't know what you were taught being raised Christian, so I cannot say anything for or against it. But, what I can say is the deities I pay homage to will accept any who approach them honestly. Can you do that?”

Robin bit her lip nervously. “I...I don't know if I'm comfortable with worshiping them like you... Is that all right?”

She smiled gently. “That's all right. As long as you're not in opposition to the work I do, it will be fine.” She dropped her hand. “I need to go get the seeds. Feel free to approach the altar. It doesn't bite, I promise.” She brushed past her to head back to the kitchen, pulling the seeds from the remnants of the cores and washing and drying them gently before placing them in the dish and carrying it back to the room. She stopped in the doorway, and a small smile made its onto her face.

Robin had settled on the floor in front of the altar, her feet under her, hands on her knees, staring up at the small statue of Cailleach Bheur sitting behind the unlit candle. She tilted her head to the side slightly like she did when she was intrigued by something. She spoke quietly then. “That's the hag aspect of the triple goddess, right?”

“Mm.” Tharja moved around her to set the dish down beside the goblet. “Cailleach Bheur, or Beira. The Queen of Winter who rules the dark days between Samhain and Beltaine.”

“Morrigan comes after, right?”

She glanced down at her and the surprise must have shown on her face because Robin's eyes flicked up towards hers almost apologetically.

“I did some reading when I was younger,” she explained. “I know it's nowhere near as accurate as one who worships her, but...”

“It's okay,” Tharja said gently as she pulled the matchbox from the shelf and struck a match, lighting the candle. “If you ever want to know, all you have to do is ask.”

“Thanks.”

She shook the match out, before setting it and the box aside and settling down next to the blonde. “Would you like to say the prayer with me?” she offered. “Or would you prefer to just watch?” She paused. “You don't have to do either if you don't feel comfortable.”

Robin looked away, staring at the statue for a few moments, her eyes adopting a distant almost wistful look. “I think...” she began slowly. “I think, I'd like to stay. And watch.” She climbed to her feet and walked to the doorway, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe.

Tharja nodded, acknowledging her choice, before getting to her own feet and beginning the small ritual.

* * *

Cooking had been enjoyable, to say the least. Robin listened well, and, so long as she stayed focused on the tasks, did quite well. It was nice, cooking with someone who was so keen to be a help. But there was...something else about it. Something Tharja couldn't quite put her finger on. But it wasn't unpleasant, so, for the time, she would let it pass.

She could dissect the feeling after Robin had gone home.

After they had finished eating and the dishes had been rinsed and put in the sink and the leftovers put away, they relaxed on the couch, sipping the Riesling.

“So, did I do all right?”

“Hm?” Tharja glanced up. It wasn't that she was getting drunk as of yet, but there was definitely something making her brain feel fuzzy and a very traitorous part of her was adamant it was the way Robin's leg had fallen against her own as comfortably as a lover's would.

“Did I do all right?” She held up the glass in indication. “With the wine. Did I do all right?”

“Mm, yes. How much did you have leftover, anyway?”

Robin frowned slightly, digging into her pocket. “About $7.29?” she replied, holding out her hand.

“No worries,” Tharja said. “Just set it on the table there, under the lamp.”

“Mkay.”

She sighed and took another sip of the wine. It was rather good for such a cheap wine. Though, really nothing could match the wines from her Grandmama's cellar that dated back to the early 1800s...

* * *

She blinked slowly, and as her vision clarified she realized she was staring at her ceiling.

Sunlight was spilling in through the gap in the curtains of the window across the room. Was it morning? Had she fallen asleep reading again? Or writing for work? No, there were no papers around. Just a wine glass on the table beside the couch and...

Robin's hair fanned across her lap as the woman slept soundly with her head resting against her thigh.

Tharja turned her line of sight back to the wine glass and glared at it for a moment as the prior night's events unfogged themselves slightly.

Robin had shown up around six. And they had worked together to make the lamb's wool before she'd sent Robin to go get supplies for dinner...and then they'd been drinking. Some time during that, they must have passed out.

She pushed Robin's head off of her lap gently, not because she was bothered by it or didn't want her there, but because Robin didn't deserve to be embarrassed to be in such an intimate position with a woman she had barely become friends with.

Tharja didn't mind, she was honestly rather happy that it had happened. But she didn't want Robin to feel guilt for it. And she knew she would. That was just the type of person Robin was. And Tharja would never want to change that.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of December they spent nearly every day talking, or walking around the city together. Robin had no work, due to the Christmas season, but she insisted that her friends had too much to worry about with their own families for her to bother them and she would have just laid around her house and beaten Super Mario Bros. or The Legend of Zelda again. Better to be out and being active, she'd said. She didn't need to become a pudgy couch potato, or so she said. Tharja had never seen the woman put on so much as a pound despite how much she could eat when the mood struck her.  
  
But, it meant she could spend time with her, and frankly, Tharja had come to realize that was all she really wanted. To see Robin happy. And it certainly made her happy to find all the possible paths the city held away from holiday shoppers and carolers, and all the annoyances that generally came with commercialism.

* * *

She sighed softly, swirling the wine around in her glass as she listened to Robin go on. The blonde had a game console scattered across her kitchen table. She was fixing it for a friend, but had taken the opportunity to tell her all about the insides of a Nintendo Entertainment System.  
  
“And this is where the cartridges are read, which is really funny, since the Famicom had a top loading style and an add-on that used a system more like floppy disks than these cartridges,” she said, fiddling with the piece in a way that Tharja would have never dreamed of doing. “But it hasn't been released here.”  
  
“Why did they change it?” she said, taking a sip of wine as she watched the blonde fit the piece back into the console.  
  
“Um...not sure,” Robin replied, fastening the piece back in. “Supposedly making the worldwide release of the console a front-loader was to make it different from competitors...”  
  
“I can tell from the tone in your voice that you believe that was a bad idea.”  
  
The blonde grinned briefly before looking back down at her work. “Considering I've fixed this exact same console five times in the past year for the same exact problem?”  
  
“What is the problem?” Tharja said, setting her glass down briefly as she watched her friend's fingers disappear inside the console.  
  
“This front-loading slot style is supposedly zero insertion force.”  
  
“I find it hard to believe that.”  
  
Robin snorted. “You'd be right. This entire system fucks up the cartridges and the console itself. But, I guess I can't really complain.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
She grinned up at her. “I get $500 every time I fix this thing.”  
  
“Dork.”

* * *

 

“I'm confused.”  
  
“What's confusing?”  
  
Robin was laying on her back on the floor, her pigtails spread out to the side, as she fiddled with the crystal in her hands. “How does a pendulum actually tell you whether or not you should do something?”  
  
“Well, it doesn't,” Tharja explained, leaning over and taking the crystal. “Not really.”  
  
“Then why use it?”  
  
“Sometimes I just need a nudge, something to give me a little more confidence to do what I know I should do.”  
  
“So it's like talking to your grandmother?”  
  
“Pretty much.”  
  
“But there are other forms of divination? More complex ones?”  
  
“They're only as complex as you make them, Robi.”  
  
“I know, I mean... There's more to them than just “yes” and “no” answers.”  
  
“Well, yes. Tarot can be like that.”  
  
Robin rolled over and pushed herself up on her elbows. “Could you do a reading for me?”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Remember when I was fixing Chrom's NES?”  
  
Of course she did. Even if she had little interest at all in technology, she remembered every single thing the blonde told her when they spent time together. Even if she wanted to exchange more than just words and often caught herself staring at the blonde's mouth, finding herself grateful it normally happened when Robin's attention was caught up in something other than her. “Of course.”  
  
“Well, he said I should start a business fixing video game consoles and computers.”  
  
“I don't need my tarot deck to tell you that it's a good idea,” Tharja said, getting to her feet and putting the crystal away. Normally she would have kept it separate until she could cleanse it; she'd never felt the need to banish the blonde's energy.  
  
“What do you mean? It's a really big venture. Really dangerous...”  
  
“But you're good at it, and you could make a lot of money.”  
  
Robin sighed, sitting up completely and leaning forward on her palms. “I don't wanna be pushy, but...”  
  
Tharja chuckled quietly. “Why ever would I consider you pushy?”  
  
“Because I'm asking for a reading even after you gave me an answer.”  
  
She turned around and knelt down in front of her, ruffling her bangs gently. “There is nothing wrong with wanting a little more of a nudge than my saying it would be a good idea.”  
  
“Sometimes you really sound like you're from a time way older than me,” Robin mumbled.  
  
“That's what happens when you're raised by only one person, darling. Especially one who's very set in her ways.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess...”  
  
“Why don't I do that reading now?” she said, getting to her feet.  
  
Robin smiled softly. “Thank you, Tharja.”

* * *

It was evening on December 31st that found them at the outskirts of a city park, Robin perched upon the low wall like a small child as she leaned back against Tharja's back where the other woman had stopped to lean against the wall.  
  
“Yanno,” Robin said quietly, leaning her head back against Tharja's shoulder as the tip of her pig tail tickled the back of the raven's hand. “Tonight's New Year's Eve. Well, not for you, at least. But this place is going to be crawling with people tonight.”  
  
“It makes me grateful the only holiday we share with non-pagans is Samhain. I can handle one holiday bleeding over.”  
  
The blonde chuckled softly. “If you had your way, there wouldn't be any overlap, eh?”  
  
“Hell no.” She leaned her head back against the blonde's shoulder and looked up at the darkening sky where the stars were just beginning to flicker into sight. “They stole so much from us. They don't even have the balls to make their own holidays. They just take what people already put the time and effort into. It pisses me off.” She heard Robin's soft giggle in her ear. “What?”  
  
“We're complaining about people that aren't even bothering us. We're a mess.”  
  
“I'm an irritable bitch. I'm mean to everyone.”  
  
“You're not mean to me.”  
  
She fell silent. She couldn't argue that. She was even mean to Henry. And yet... “You haven't given me reason to be mean to you.”  
  
“But you just...” She sighed and stood up, pulling away from her. “I should be getting home. Chrom wanted me to come to watch the ball drop. I'll see you later.” And before Tharja could say another word, she'd hurried off down the sidewalk.  
  
“...way to go, Tharja,” she muttered angrily to herself as she glared back up at the sky. “What are you even fucking doing....”

* * *

She sighed softly and turned another page in _Fevre Dream_. It was less than a week until Imbolc. Which made it nearly five weeks since she'd last spoken to Robin. She knew the woman had a lot of work after the first of the year, but she couldn't help but blame herself for at least part of the silence...  
  
She stared over the book as the realization dawned on her. This woman was on her mind completely and unbidden. And not in irritation or annoyance either. The thought of her made her...both sad and happy. She wanted to hate it. She did. But she couldn't. It made her want to see her, to go back to that evening in the park when they were so close she could hear the blonde's breathing, to go back to when she'd awoken to find her head on her leg....  
  
“Ugh!” She flung the book across the room. “I fucking hate this.”

* * *

 

“You should calm down before you worry yourself ill as you are wont to do, Little Mouse.”  
  
“I can't help it, Grandmama,” she protested, setting her cup of tea on the table before clutching her hands to her chest. She couldn't hold the cup any longer for fear she'd drop and break it with how she was shaking. “I can't stop thinking about her. I didn't mean to care this much about her. It just...happened. First it was trading numbers and addresses...and then somehow I didn't mind her letting herself in...and we spent Yule together...we even made the offering...”  
  
“Tharja,” the old woman began gently. “I would never tell you what decision to make, but I will say that you should think for a moment. Your heart knows the answer your brain is refusing to acknowledge.”  
  
Tharja closed her eyes. She knew. Of course she did. She sighed. “I didn't realize I could fall this hard...” she murmured. “But it feels so natural having her around. And so unnatural without...”  
  
Her grandmother pushed her chin up gently so she looked her in the eyes. “Follow your heart, Little Mouse. Follow your heart.”  
  
“I will Grandmama,” she promised, hugging the old woman gently before rushing out the house.

* * *

She nearly crashed into her as she came out her front door. She blinked. “Tharja? What are you doing here?”  
  
“I came...to see you.” She looked out of breath and her cheeks were tinted pink from the wind. “I'm sorry, I--”  
  
“Come inside, you dork,” Robin said, pulling her inside and shutting the door behind them. “Now what are you apologizing for? I'm the one that should be apologizing. I didn't even call you this whole time and--”  
  
“It's my fault. I shouldn't have upset you that night.”  
  
“I wasn't upset,” she said gently. “Really. It's just that on top of what Chrom wanted, Emmeryn wanted to give me a Christmas present...and I didn't think it would be fair to you to not have one...”  
  
“Robin, I...”  
  
“Look, I know I should have told you, but--”  
  
“Robin, please. Can I say something?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“I'm sorry if this sounds weird or disturbing but...I really really like you. I can't stop thinking about you. I always want to be around you, and I miss you when we're not.”  
  
Robin couldn't help it. She covered her mouth and giggled a bit, even as Tharja's face fell. “Sorry, sorry!” she apologized. “It's just that you've basically read my mind.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Mhmm.” She grew serious again. “Which brings me to what I'd like to say.”  
  
“I'm all ears.”  
  
“Since you like me and can't stop thinking about me, and I like you and can't stop thinking about you, and we miss the other when she's not around...why don't we fix that?”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Why don't we be _together_ ,” Robin said. “As much as we can.”  
  
“Are you suggesting...dating?”  
  
“I am.”  
  
“I...wow, I never thought...o-okay.”  
  
She grinned widely. “Great!” She practically tackled her in a hug that took them both crashing onto the couch.  
  
“Jeez!” Tharja exclaimed. “I didn't realize dating you meant risking a trip to the hospital.”  
  
“Nah, I try to do my divebombing somewhere near a soft surface,” Robin giggled.  
  
“Dork,” Tharja said affectionately.  
  
“But I'm your dork now!”  
  
“Heh.” She wondered if she'd ever get used to that fact.

* * *

“Tharja!”  
  
“Oof!” Even with the warning, the blonde still managed to knock the wind out of her. But she couldn't help but smile back at the huge grin her girlfriend was giving her as she looked up at her. “Hey, Robi,” she said, giving her a quick kiss before Robin let go of her and stepped back a little, linking their hands together as she fell into step beside her.  
  
“I missed you,” she said solemnly. Her pigtails were sticking out the hood of her jacket that day. Even though it was almost March, it was freezing out and their breath floated out in front of them even without the aid of cigarettes. “I hate being so busy, but he's a real hardass.”  
  
“I told you you should quit,” Tharja said. “You're stressed; I don't like it.”  
  
The bags under Robin's eyes were darker than she'd ever remembered, and she could have sworn the blonde hadn't been eating properly.  
  
“I'm fine,” Robin said quietly. “Besides, I need the money.”  
  
“I thought you were going to start fixing video game consoles for people? The reading--”  
  
“It's just a deck of cards. Even if I know you wouldn't rig it, it doesn't mean that would actually work. I mean, who makes money off of fixing other people's shit?”  
  
“Every person in existence that runs a repair shop of some kind.”  
  
“I don't know how to run a business, though,” she protested.  
  
Tharja sighed. It was better just to drop it; Robin could be as stubborn as a bull when she wanted to be. She must have had Taurus somewhere in her chart, she reasoned. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Here,” she said, shaking one out and passing it to her girlfriend.  
  
“Thanks,” Robin mumbled as she let Tharja light it before lighting her own. They stood in silence for a few minutes, the smoke floating up into the air above them. “I'm scared, okay?” she said finally, not looking up to meet her girlfriend's eyes.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“It's a man's world. Even if I am good, no one would want a girl fixing their things.”  
  
“Chrom wants you to.”  
  
“That's only because the jackass can't find anyone else. Otherwise he'd use them in a heartbeat.”  
  
“He's your frie--”  
  
“Friend? Ha. The second I told him I thought it was better if we saw other people, he immediately snapped up Sumia. I'm surprised the rabbit's still alive there.”  
  
There was so much bitterness in her voice, Tharja almost didn't know what to say. So she did the only thing she could think to do. She grabbed Robin and pulled her into the nearby alley, pushing her against the wall and kissing her hard. Within moments, Robin had her arms wound around her neck, pulling them closer together, their cigarettes forgotten in the snow.  
  
“Sorry,” Robin mumbled as they broke for air, foreheads resting together. “I love you.”  
  
“I love you, too,” Tharja said, giving her another quick, gentle kiss. “I'm always here if you need me. Well... not here, but you know.”  
  
“I know. And I really appreciate it.” Robin let her pull away, shoving her hands into her own pockets. “I did have something for you.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Here,” she said, pushing something into Tharja's hands.  
  
“...this is a key.”  
  
“Yeah. It's a, um, it's a spare key to my apartment. I know it's a little late, since you gave me a key to your place a long time ago, but...sorry.”  
  
Tharja shook her head and kissed her gently. “It's okay, darling. I know you've been busy. I gave you that key so you could come visit me when you were free, since I never seemed to call at the right times.”  
  
“Well, now you can visit me,” Robin said, not looking at her. “To be honest...a lot of times I've crashed in front of my TV. I'm not ignoring you on purpose, but I'm not really busy either.”  
  
She laughed and flicked the blonde's nose. “That's okay. As long as you're getting some sleep, I don't have to worry so much.”  
  
“Sorry I worry you...”  
  
“Pfft. There's no reason to apologize. I'd do it anyway.”  
  
Robin smiled up at her. “I guess it's only fair, since I worry about you too.”  
  
“You dork.”  
  
The blonde wound her arms around her neck and buried her face into her shoulder. “But I'm your dork.”  
  
“Yeah...”

* * *

“Hey...Tharja?”  
  
“What is it, darling?”  
  
“You know, we've yet to go on a proper date.”  
  
They sat in a cafe in a corner booth. Tharja had a small coffee even though she despised how thick it was, but it was the only thing in the cafe that wasn't loaded with sugar; Robin had a small hot chocolate. Even if it had enough sugar to give an elephant diabetes, the caffeine would have made her mood plummet. She looked exhausted as it was, even though it was early afternoon.  
  
“I suppose. Though one could consider this a date.”  
  
“I mean like with food and everything, not snatching a hot drink in an empty shop.”  
  
She shrugged and swirled the coffee in the paper cup. Even if she didn't have the most normal dating history, she couldn't really bring herself to care about “proper” dates. But if Robin wanted it, who was she to deny her? “What did you want to do then?”  
  
“I was thinking dinner and a movie,” Robin said, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “But I really dislike comedies and romances.”  
  
“What do you like, then?”  
  
“Horror movies,” she said, grinning sheepishly. “I know that sounds really stupid, but--”  
  
“It's not. Are there any horror movies playing this weekend?”  
  
“Um... I think they're releasing _Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors_ this weekend.”  
  
“All right. How about we go to dinner about eight on Sunday evening and then grab a late showing?”  
  
Robin smiled. “I'd like that. But, um... I might be...”  
  
Tharja reached across the table and squeezed her hand gently. “I can stay the night if you like.”  
  
The blonde nodded. “I would.”  
  
“Then it's a date.

* * *

It was six-twenty five on Sunday evening when she realized that she had paperwork due the next morning at seven am. Paperwork she hadn't even started.  
  
“Fuck!” she swore, tossing the controller towards the console.  
  
She'd been so certain she had everything done. It was why Tharja had agreed to a date that night. They were going to grab some dinner and then see the last showing of _Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors_. Robin knew she'd probably be paranoid after it, so Tharja had offered to stay the night afterwards. She scrambled to the phone and dialed Tharja's number. Nothing. She swore again. Tharja was probably attending to whatever she'd said she had to attend to before their date.  
  
Robin let out a breath. She'd just have to pull out her old college cram tricks.

* * *

“Oh, fuck.”  
  
“What is it, Susan?”  
  
“It's Cherry.”  
  
“Fuck.”  
  
Robin had frequented that particular fast food joint since her early college years. They were the only restaurant in the county that seemed to sell cherry milkshakes, and cherry milkshakes were the only thing that kept her awake when she needed to cram a lot of work into a handful of hours. The high school kids that worked there had nicknamed her Cherry because her bright red hair looked like the maraschino cherries they topped their shakes with. She figured the kids intended it to be cruel, but she couldn't be bothered to care. It was far better than the insinuation that being blonde meant she had as much intelligence and attention span as a common goldfish.  
  
She threw the cash down. “I want six extra large cherry milkshakes.”  
  
“Six?!”  
  
“Just give her the milkshakes, Tommy,” the girl hissed.  
  
“Yeah, but how is she gonna carry six?”  
  
Robin set the cooler bag down next to the money. “I'm going to carry them in this. I'm not an idiot, you know.”  
  
They exchanged a look that seemed to say they wanted dearly to disagree. But Susan picked up the money and walked over to the register to ring up the order as Tommy began making the milkshakes. Susan came back with the receipt and Robin told her just to keep the change. She frowned but nodded, putting the change back into the money tray as Tommy put the milkshakes in front of the cooler.  
  
“Will that be all?”  
  
“Yeah, thanks,” Robin muttered, loading the milkshakes into the bag and slinging it over her shoulder before jogging off.  
  
“...that is literally the strangest woman I have ever met.”

* * *

She dropped the bag beside her desk and pulled the first milkshake out, taking a long sip as she pulled the papers out of her work bag, tossing them on the desk. She set the milkshake down, flicking through a few pages before grabbing a pen out of the drawer.  
  
Time to get to work.

* * *

Tharja unlocked the door and stuck the key back into her bag. “Robin?” she called into the seemingly empty apartment. “Are you home? Or did you pass out playing Metroid again?” She frowned when she didn't receive an answer. She walked in a little ways and dropped her bag onto the couch. “Robin!”  
  
“I'm in here!”  
  
She walked towards the sound of Robin's voice, which was coming from the second bedroom she'd turned into an office, pushing the door open and peeking inside.  
  
Robin was bent over a massive pile of papers scattered across the desk, one pigtail having fallen over her shoulder. There were empty fast food drink cups scattered across the floor.  
  
_Two...three...six?!_ “Robin, how many sodas have you--”  
  
“Not sodas,” the blonde replied. “Milkshakes. Gotta finish this shit for work. Needed to focus.”  
  
Milkshakes. Wonderful. “Do you realize how much sugar that dumped into your system?”  
  
Robin looked up at her then and blinked. “You know...” she said, her eyes slightly distant. “Now that you mention it...I don't feel too well.” No sooner had the words left her mouth before she vomited all over Tharja.  
  
The raven grimaced slightly. Cherry milkshakes were fine when they were cold and fresh. But half-digested and as warm as the inside of Robin's stomach... “...you're damn lucky I love you,” she muttered.  
  
“Sorry,” Robin mumbled, trying to laugh apologetically but instead ending up clutching her head and moaning softly.  
  
“Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”  
  
“Okay...”  
  
Tharja led her to the bedroom, helping her change out of her jeans before changing her own clothes into one of the outfits that had somehow found their way into her girlfriend's drawers. Though, they could easily wear each other's clothes without a problem. All except for bras. Tharja reckoned she had at least two cup sizes on her easy. After pulling on the t-shirt, she sat down next to the blonde on the bed and eased the ties out of her hair, running her fingers through it gently. “Why don't we just skip the movie and have a quiet night instead?”  
  
“But--”  
  
“Now, don't start pouting,” she said. “You and I both know that you're about to crash and crash hard.”  
  
“Am not,” Robin tried to protest, but her words were starting to slur as she flopped into her girlfriend's lap, her eyes drifting shut. “'M not tired at all...” Within minutes, she was sound asleep.  
  
“You dork,” Tharja murmured, running her fingers through the pale blonde strands gently. “You know you can't fight that.” She eased Robin off of her lap and properly onto the bed before making her way into the office to sort through the papers that Robin had been working on. It wasn't hard to see why Robin had allowed such a task to slip from her mind. It was mind numbingly annoying. She sighed, gathering up the papers and pen and walking back to the bedroom.  
  
Robin stirred, slowly opening her eyes. She glanced toward her left to see Tharja sitting beside her, writing something down on some papers she had on her lap. Robin sighed and rolled over, curling up against the raven haired woman's side.  
  
“Oh, you're awake now?”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
“If you're still tired, you can go back to sleep.”  
  
“What time is it?”  
  
“About midnight.”  
  
“Midnight?!” Robin cried, sitting up and ignoring the throbbing in her head that always succeeded a sugar crash. “I've got to finish those papers!”  
  
“Calm down, they're right here,” Tharja said, shaking the papers to illustrate her point before going back to writing.  
  
“You shouldn't--”  
  
“Don't worry about it.”  
  
Robin made to say something else, but her stomach lurched and she clapped a hand to her mouth quickly before stumbling to the bathroom. Tharja was there within seconds to hold her hair back and rub her back gently. When she was finished, she got up, flushing the toilet and washing her hands before rinsing the taste out of her mouth.  
  
“Are you okay?” Tharja's voice was quiet, but her grey-blue eyes were searching Robin's own worriedly.  
  
Robin looped her arms around her neck and buried her face against her shoulder. “My head hurts,” she mumbled.  
  
“Lay back down. I'll make you some tea.”  
  
Robin wanted to protest, but she could feel her body begging for more rest. “Okay...” She lay back down and curled on her side, closing her eyes. She could hear Tharja working in the kitchen to make the tea.  
  
After a few minutes, Tharja came back into the room and sat down next to her on the bed. “Here,” she said gently, holding the mug out to her.  
  
Robin pushed herself up into a sitting position to take the mug, taking a sip and leaning against Tharja's shoulder.  
  
“Better?”  
  
“Mm.” She continued drinking her tea as they sat in silence, with Tharja finishing up the papers and setting them on the bedside table. When the mug was half empty, a wide yawn escaped her, and Tharja took the mug gently, setting it down beside the papers.  
  
“Get some more sleep,okay?”  
  
She made a small sound of acknowledgment before curling against Tharja's side. She smiled softly as she felt Tharja's fingers in her hair and closed her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

“Pleeeeeeeease.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“C'mon! I know you'll like them!”  
  
“Robin, you can whine all you want. I'm not going to a little girl's birthday party.”  
  
“She's turning fourteen. And I want you to meet my friends too.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease.”  
  
Tharja rolled her eyes as Robin continued repeating that single word. She propped her cheek against her palm as the blonde tugged at her other arm, still whining. “Oh, fine!” she said finally, as Robin tackled her in a hug with a barrage of “thank you”s. She sighed heavily. It really was impossible to say no to her girlfriend. At least she hadn't asked for anything worse than a social event.

* * *

“Oh, hi! You must be Tharja!”  
  
“Pretty much.”  
  
The girl's face fell a bit. “You're not very cheerful...”  
  
“Lissa, that's no way to talk to the guests.”  
  
“Well, she's not, Emm!”  
  
“Don't mind her,” the older blonde said, smiling gently. “Lissa is cheerful enough for all of us.”  
  
Tharja nodded before letting Robin drag her over to a couch in the sitting room. It seemed they were opening the presents first, she realized, as the rest of the guests filed into the room and began handing the girl presents. She could easily find Maribelle; her proximity to Lissa rivaled even Robin's proximity to herself. But Tharja could see the protective streak in how the girl held herself; she doubted their relationship was what hers and Robin's was though. This entire group seemed to be very religious, specifically Christian. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the couch. She didn't even know why she had to dress up for the whole affair, and in light colors no less. She was grateful she at least had a pale purple bra; she'd had to borrow the rest from Robin. A v-neck blouse, sweater, and knee-length skirt with flats. Even with how loose Robin liked her clothes, Tharja's bust made the shirt incredibly tight. She doubted she looked little better than a primped up slut.  
  
“Here, Lissa. This is from me and Tharja,” Robin said, holding the bag out to her.  
  
“Thanks!” she said, grinning. She took the bag and pulled out the tissue paper, tossing it over her shoulder, much to Maribelle's obvious irritation. “Oh, cool! It's a devotional.”  
  
“It even has special devotions for birthdays and holidays,” Robin explained. She squeaked as Lissa tackled her in a hug.

* * *

“You should get some cake and ice cream,” Robin said, nudging her gently.  
  
“I had a slice of pizza,” Tharja returned flatly, her arms crossed on the table in front of her. The part of her that hadn't wanted to come was slowly morphing into a very irritable part that just wanted to leave, but she couldn't bear to upset the blonde.  
  
“Here, just have some.” She shoved the forkful of ice cream soaked cake into the raven's mouth.  
  
Tharja frowned as she chewed and swallowed. Robin had already eaten three slices of pizza and that was her second plate of cake and ice cream. She rarely did well consuming that much healthy food at one time. “Don't you think you should slow down?”  
  
“You worry too much,” Robin said, pushing more ice cream onto the cake.  
  
“I think I worry just enough.”  
  
The blonde just nodded absently and continued eating.  
  
“It's worse when they're older than us but we're the more mature and responsible ones, isn't it?”  
  
Tharja glanced up to see Maribelle sitting down across from her. “Yeah,” she said. She was beginning not to care how much she lied.  
  
“So how did you meet our...delightful Robin?”  
  
She wasn't sure if the emphasis was affection or disgust, and it immediately put her on edge. “A party.”  
  
“Oh, so you work with her?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Oh...” After a few minutes of silence, if one ignored the sounds Robin made trying to keep her cake from making a huge mess, Maribelle sighed and stood up, calling for her friend as she walked away.  
  
“Yanno, ya should be a li'l' nicer,” Robin said through a mouthful of cake.  
  
“Don't talk with your mouth full.”  
  
She swallowed and frowned at her. “Why are you in such a bad mood?”  
  
“I'm tired, that's all. Sorry.” She squeezed Robin's hand gently. “Just have your fun, all right?”  
  
Robin was quiet for a moment. “I'm almost done. After I clean up, we can go home.”  
  
“Robin--”  
  
She grinned. “It's okay. The party's mostly over anyway.”  
  
Tharja sighed as she watched her finish eating and get up. _Even when she smiles, I feel like a bitch..._

* * *

Robin bounced along beside her as they walked down the sidewalk. “So...”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Tell me what's really bothering you.”  
  
She glanced at her. “Nothing's bothering me. Now, am I taking you home, or are you staying at my house? I'd like to get out of this.”  
  
“Come on, you look nice!”  
  
“I look like a primped up slut! Look at how tight this shirt is. I must be showing at least four inches of cleavage. I show less of my breasts when I'm in a club.”  
  
Robin giggled. “You're so modest. It's really cute.”  
  
“There is nothing cute about looking like a slutty school teacher.”  
  
“I think there is.” She grinned. “Or maybe I just think my girlfriend is beyond adorable.”  
  
Tharja rolled her eyes. “Well, I don't feel cute, okay? I did this for you, but I'd really like to end it sooner rather than later.” Robin's face fell a little and she almost apologized from habit before she realized it wasn't completely from what she'd said.  
  
“I...” She swallowed hard. “I don't feel so well...”  
  
Tharja grabbed her wrist and pulled her gently into a nearby alley, holding her hair back as her stomach emptied itself onto the dirty concrete. “It's okay,” she murmured. “I'm here.” She pulled a handkerchief out of her purse and handed it to her when she was done.  
  
“Thanks,” Robin mumbled, wiping her mouth. “I should listen to you more often. Sometimes I think you know my body better than I do.” She chuckled and smiled weakly.  
  
“Why don't you stay the night with me?” Tharja suggested. “A nice warm shower and some rest and you should be feeling better come morning.”  
  
“I'd like that, thanks.”

* * *

She lay on her side, staring at the wall. All of Tharja's house had a distinctly gothic Victorian feel, she'd told her the house was old; the only additions had been modern indoor plumbing and electricity. It didn't even have central heating, so most of the rooms had fireplaces in them, and it was almost like she'd fallen into a vampire novel at times.  
  
The house was far too quiet. In her apartment she could hear everything that happened no matter where it was, but here... She threw the covers back and climbed out of bed, slipping her feet into the borrowed slippers and trudging out of the room. She made it to the bottom of the stairs before she heard a sound other than her own.  
  
“Robin? What are you doing up?” Tharja was in a nightgown of her own, one that came down to her knees, dark red and made of what looked like silk. “I thought you went to bed.”  
  
“It's too quiet,” Robin mumbled, shaking her head.  
  
Tharja sighed, tucking a strand of raven hair behind her ear before took her girlfriend's hand gently. “I'm sorry my house is quiet, darling, but it's always been this way.”  
  
Robin shook her head again. She didn't want her to be sorry, there was no need for that.  
  
“Well, I was going up to bed now.” She paused, looking Robin over. “Why don't you sleep with me tonight?”  
  
“What?” Robin looked at her, confusion evident in her eyes.  
  
“You said it it's hard to sleep with how quiet it is,” she explained. “It wouldn't be quiet if you were in a room with someone else, right?”  
  
“Oh, I thought you meant...” She laughed, her cheeks a little pink from embarrassment. “Yeah, if you'll have me.”  
  
“Then it's all set. Come on,” Tharja said gently, putting an arm around her waist. They made their way upstairs and settled into bed. Even though there was plenty of room, Robin wiggled her way over and curled up against Tharja's side.  
  
“I'm sorry about that,” Robin said quietly. “I had to remind myself you're not like most guys.”  
  
“What's that mean?”  
  
“Well, usually, when guys ask a girl to sleep with them, they mean have sex.”  
  
Tharja froze. “I...”  
  
“I know we've rushed a lot of things, and I really do like you, but... I don't think I'm ready for that...”  
  
“That's okay,” Tharja said, kissing the top of her head gently. “I won't ever push you to do something you aren't comfortable with.”  
  
Robin smiled sleepily. “You know, you really do make me think you're like some Victorian noblewoman or something,” she mumbled. “But you're only a few years older than me...”  
  
“Yeah...”  
  
“Thanks though. I appreciate it. Good night, Tharja.”  
  
“Good night, Robin.”

* * *

The sun filtered through the curtains the next morning. Robin tried to bury her face deeper into the pillow to no avail. She groaned and sat up, rubbing her eyes. It took her a few minutes to recall that she had spent the night at Tharja's, and a few longer to remember that she had slept in her bed. She pulled her knees near her chest.  
  
Tharja came back into the room, stifling a yawn of her own. “Oh, good morning,” she said.  
  
Robin mumbled a reply.  
  
“Are you still not feeling well?” she asked, coming to sit down next to her on the bed.  
  
“It's not that. Well, not physically, at least...”  
  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
“I...” The thoughts tumbled around her head in a rush. She shouldn't be feeling this way. Even if her past bothered her, she shouldn't let it bother Tharja. The woman cared too much for her. She sighed. “I'm sorry about last night.”  
  
“Robin, I've never had a problem with you staying the night.”  
  
“Not that...”  
  
“Oh, you mean when I offered to let you sleep with me?”  
  
“Could you...could you not say it that way?”  
  
“I apologize.”  
  
“No, it's...” She sighed. “You remember when I said I used to be with Chrom?”  
  
Sensing a heavy subject, Tharja took her hand gently and led her downstairs to the breakfast nook in the kitchen, where their tea was waiting exactly as Robin liked it. She sat down across from the blonde and said “I remember.”  
  
Robin nodded, staring down into her tea. “We tried it, once,” she said quietly. “Sex, I mean.”  
  
“I didn't think as heavily Christian as they were...”  
  
She snorted quietly. “Chrom is the reason I started drinking in high school. They're just good at hiding it. But that night was also why he's dating Sumia now...”  
  
Tharja held her tongue as she took a few sips of her tea. She could tell the subject was bothering her, but she knew better than to pry. Robin could shut down just as easily as she was opening up, easier even. She watched Robin carefully as the blonde stared down into her mug of tea before taking a long drink of it.  
  
“We didn't even get that far. That's probably why he left me. I mean, who would want a girl that flinches when you try to touch her?” she said bitterly, setting the mug down. “I couldn't even let him touch my boob without having to move. It just felt so...wrong. So I told him I thought it was better for us to see other people. He didn't even protest. He just snapped up Sumia without a second thought. Like he never even fucking cared about me!” Her hand clutched the table so tightly her knuckles turned white and Tharja had to reach across and take her hand in her own.  
  
“Men are stupid,” she said gently. “But if it bothers you to be touched--”  
  
“Actually,” the blonde said quietly. “I actually enjoy when you touch me. I can't help but want to be around you, to be close... I know that's weird.”  
  
“Oh, Robi,” she murmured, squeezing her hand gently. “I don't think it's weird at all. If you're comfortable, then by all means you can be as close as you like. Even if that's in my lap.” She laughed softly. “I'm kidding, I promise.”  
  
“Oh... I kinda like that idea though,” Robin mumbled, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “I hated it with Chrom though... He got turned on once from it...”  
  
“Okay, why don't we stop thinking about that asshole?” Tharja said gently, getting to her feet and tugging Robin's hand gently. “Why don't we go out and get some breakfast?”  
  
“That'd be nice, yeah.”

* * *

They sat under a tree in the park, enjoying their breakfast in the surprisingly warm spring weather. Robin had her elbows propped up on her knees as she took a bite out of her McMuffin. “I know this is probably a really personal question, but...”  
  
Tharja glanced over as she took a sip of her coffee. “I don't have anything to hide from you,” she said, shrugging. “Ask away.”  
  
She blushed and looked away in embarrassment. “Well, it's just, well, you know I've been with Chrom, but...”  
  
The raven sighed softly and set her coffee down. “I told you I'm not into guys. I would have thought it would be easy to connect the pieces from there.”  
  
“Well, I suppose.” Robin sighed and finished her food before she said “What I mean is have you ever actually, well, y'know, done it?”  
  
“Once or twice, when I was a lot younger,” Tharja answered, taking another drink of her coffee. She wasn't entirely sure if she was simply picking up Robin's embarrassment, or developing her own. Though she wasn't sure why. She truly didn't have anything to hide from her. So why was she suddenly embarrassed to admit that the blonde wasn't the first woman she'd fallen for? Was it because every other time had been the very same lust that seemed to frighten Robin, and that she felt different with Robin? With the others it had simply been little more than a desire to fulfill a bodily urge, like an itch that needed to be scratched. Yet with Robin, she was perfectly content to be around her. Even things as simple as sharing a breakfast under a tree in the park was more fulfilling than it had been to be with those women.  
  
“So you have experience, huh?” Robin said quietly.  
  
“Well, perhaps,” she replied. “But I can't say I loved them in any way.”  
  
Robin glanced up at her, pale blonde bangs falling into her eyes. “So it was just horniness?”  
  
She shrugged. “I guess so. But I don't feel that way with you.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Just spending time together is enough,” Tharja said. She glanced up into the tree branches above them as a robin landed and smiled slightly. “I've never actually enjoyed spending time with anyone but Grandmama.”  
  
“I guess that's something we have in common,” Robin replied, leaning over her to grab another McMuffin. “Though, you're really the first one I've ever felt completely comfortable around.”  
  
“You didn't feel comfortable with your parents?”  
  
She snorted and took a bite out of the McMuffin. “Hell no. Why do you think I dyed my hair cherry red when I went to college?”  
  
“I think it looked good on you.”  
  
“Pfft, whatever. But yeah. I wanted to forget about them as much as I could, even if it was only temporary. So I moved into an apartment and dyed my hair.”  
  
“Seems pretty drastic. Wasn't just the apartment enough?”  
  
A heavy sigh escaped her and she leaned back against the tree. “At the time, it didn't feel like anything was enough. In a way, I think I wanted to find some way to make them disown me. Because even having to scrape together enough money to eat even once a day sounded better than constantly being lectured for not being what they wanted to me. And then when precious little Aversa--”  
  
“Wait, you know Aversa,” Tharja said suddenly. “How?”  
  
“She's my older sister. Or, that's what Dad said, at least. I told you that before, though.”  
  
“Huh...”  
  
“What's wrong?”  
  
“Nothing,” she said. Aversa was the one that had told Robin about the second rave. And had explicitly told her that Tharja would be there. Tharja remembered that, but she couldn't figure out why. She'd never particularly liked Aversa, and it seemed as if the feeling was mutual. So why would she want to push the two of them together? There had to be some ulterior motive. If it was Henry, she could have simply shrugged it off. But the fact that it was Aversa left a bad taste in her mouth. And then there was... “Wait, so you're Validar Truss' daughter?”  
  
“Well, Truss isn't a very common name, is it?” There was a soft tone to Robin's voice as she continued to stare at her feet. “And Little Miss Perfect has so many friends. And then there's me. The fuck up that can't even hold down a proper job, or keep a boyfriend.”  
  
“That doesn't make you a fuck up,” Tharja said gently. “And you can always get a better job if you want it. And boyfriends, eh. Who needs men? I hear they can only orgasm once per session. Where's the fun in that?”  
  
Robin snorted into her coffee. “I think that's the dirtiest thing I've ever heard you say,” she choked out through her laughter.  
  
She leaned over and kissed her girlfriend's cheek. “Feel better?”  
  
“Yeah. Thanks, Tharja.” She smiled softly. “I think we should keep the public affection to a minimum though. Never know who might be watching.”  
  
“All I did was kiss your cheek. A lot of Europeans do that to everyone they greet.”  
  
“Americans are weird about that,” Robin giggled. “But if you're that keen on cuddling, we can always go to my place. It's a lot closer than yours. Though we might end up hearing the assholes next door trying to break their bed. But that's what stereos are for, I guess.”  
  
“Any time spent with you sounds wonderful to me.”  
  
“Great!”

* * *

After they'd stored the McDonald's bags away in the refrigerator and turned the stereo up to block out whichever of Robin's neighbors decided that nine am on a Saturday morning was an absolutely brilliant time to repetitively slam their bed into the wall adjacent to her apartment, Robin practically pounced Tharja into the couch as Iron Maiden's “Hallowed Be Thy Name” began playing. When she giggled, Tharja looked at her in confusion.  
  
“Sorry, it's just that I can only really listen to Iron Maiden when I'm not around any of my other friends. It's funny that it comes on when I'm with you.”  
  
“The Number of the Beast isn't exactly something Christians would appreciate, I imagine,” Tharja mused, taking the ties out of Robin's hair and running her fingers through it gently a few times.  
  
“No, it isn't,” Robin sighed, leaning against the raven's side. “Even if they're not Satanists.”  
  
“Christians often have a bad habit of thinking that if you don't agree with everything they say, that you're against them,” Tharja said quietly.  
  
“Mhmm.” Robin nuzzled against her neck, smiling slightly as Tharja's hair tickled her nose. “This is nice.”  
  
“I'm glad.”


End file.
